


Star

by beckalina



Category: NSYNC
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-04
Updated: 2010-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckalina/pseuds/beckalina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This ain't nothin' but a heartbreak town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written 3/23/2001

They were young, in love--and full of dreams. Justin had always wanted to be an actor. He acted in community theater, high school plays, anything he could get a part in. But he really wanted to be like one of the people he saw on the movie screen.

Justin's dreams were Lance's dreams. All Lance wanted to do was make Justin happy. And so he gave up going to college, instead working two jobs so that he could save up money. He had wanted to go to school, study business--but he cared more about Justin's dreams than his own.

The summer after Justin graduated, they packed all of their respective belongings into Lance's beat up Toyota. Their mothers kissed them goodbye while their fathers told them that it was foolish to run after a senseless dream.

They stopped at dusk, in a small town much like the one they had left behind. Spending the night in a hotel near the highway off ramp, they made love the way they had always wanted to--without fear that a parent or sibling would open the door and walk in on them.

Justin rested his head on Lance's broad, sweat slicked chest, while Lance's left hand twisted itself amongst his lover's toffee hued curls. Both were breathing easy, the silence enveloping them comfortable--as good as any words could be.

"Do you think I'll make it?" Justin whispered suddenly, turning his head so that his eyes were fixed on Lance's.

"Yes," Lance replied, his hand moving from the curls, massaging the back of Justin's neck.

"Just like that? You can say yes and be so sure about it?" Justin questioned.

"Yes," the word was repeated, his eyes twinkling like diamonds in the low light, "I believe in you, Justin. You're a wonderful actor, and it's only a matter of time before the rest of the world finds out."

******

Three months later, the couple was settled into their tiny apartment in the worst section of West Hollywood. Trauma sirens were their nightly lullaby, bright lights from the nearby strip clubs their nightlight. They rarely ventured out at night, the streets of their neighborhood lined with male and female prostitutes once the darkness set in.

During the week, Lance worked long hours in a warehouse, his muscles often sore from pulling and pushing boxes. He would come home and have just enough time to wash up and take a short nap before going to his second job at the deli down the street.

Justin's days were spent reading through trade papers, searching the ads for cattle calls. They didn't have enough money to pay for professional head shots, and no agency would accept him if he didn't have them. All he had on his side was luck--and the love of his boyfriend. If he could get a part through an open audition, then he would have the money for a portfolio.

Since they rarely saw each other on weekdays, Justin and Lance spent their weekends in bed. Those two days, laying tangled together in the mismatched sheets, made up for the hardships they faced during the other five.

Justin tried not to cry when he would come home from a failed audition, but he never succeeded. He would curl up in the middle of their bed, clutching Lance's pillow because it smelled like him, and cry tears of utter frustration. It was even harder when Lance was at work--there was no one there to reassure Justin that he would make it someday, and that those stupid idiots would regret letting him slip through their fingers.

Lance would often come home from work and find Justin in that position, his eyes closed in slumber and the tears dried on his cheeks. It killed him that he couldn't be there for Justin to cry on--he hated that his boyfriend had to resort to a pillow for comfort.

But he had to work. They had an apartment to pay for, necessities to pay for. He wouldn't let Justin work. Justin needed to have an open schedule, so that he could go to an audition whenever he needed to. Lance didn't mind working, because he was helping Justin achieve his dream.

"I hate this place," Justin sniffled one night, nuzzling his cheek against Lance's chest, "No one wants me Lance. No one. I'm too lanky, I have to gain a little weight. I'm not lanky enough, I need to lose weight. My hair is too curly, my hair isn't curly enough. I'm not good enough for any of them."

"Fuck them, Justin," Lance whispered as he ran a comforting hand along Justin's back, "I will tell you until the day I die, you are amazingly talented. If they can't see that, then they're the stupidest people on the planet. You're time will come, Justin. I promise you that."

"How can you be so sure Lance?" Tears glittered in the dark blue eyes. "How?"

"Because I am. You're my little star Justin. And one day, you'll be Hollywood's star. I have faith in you, baby."

******

Life for the pair was hard for their first year in California. No matter how much Lance worked, they never had enough money, scrimping and saving for even the smallest things. Their apartment was broken into, the thieves getting away with a small television, and the promise ring Justin had bought for Lance at Christmas a few years earlier.

That had been the hardest to deal with.

The ring was a symbol of their love, Justin had worked at a fast food restaurant for five months to save the money. And now, it was gone.

Justin sobbed over the loss of the ring, while Lance berated himself for leaving it at home while he worked in the warehouse. He had always been afraid that something would happen to it while he was working, so he left it on the dresser in their bedroom. But he pushed all of his feelings deep inside, so that he could comfort his boyfriend.

Lance lost his job at the warehouse, a victim of a mass layoff. He scrambled to find something else as quickly as he could. No one was hiring, no matter where he looked. Things were getting worse for the couple--without the money the warehouse job had provided, they couldn't afford the rent on their apartment.

Justin came home from an audition, rushing into the apartment and wrapping his arms around Lance in an exuberant hug. After a year of trying, he had finally landed a part. A recurring role on a television show, at least three episodes, five hundred dollars a show.

For now, they could afford to continue living in their small home--and, if Justin were lucky enough, they would never have to worry about money again.

They had a small celebration when the first episode premiered. Lance splurged on a bottle of wine, and they toasted each other when Justin's faced graced the small screen. Their new television was even smaller than the old one; black and white with bad reception--but their dreams flickered on the thirteen inch screen.

A few weeks--and a commitment for five more episodes--later, Justin was contacted by a man calling himself CK. He was an agent, and offered to represent Justin, free of charge until he found him a role--then he would take ten percent.

Justin was ecstatic. Everything he had ever dreamed of was finally falling into place. The crowning moment was when he saw one of his promotional photos in the corner of a popular magazine's cover. It proclaimed him to be the hottest new thing on television.

Offers began to pour in so fast Justin's head spun. Life was better than he could have ever imagined it to be, and he was glad he had Lance to share it with.

"I told you that you would make it," Lance chuckled softly as they leafed through the magazine together.

"I know you did, Lance," Justin placed a kiss on the underside of Lance's jaw, "Thank you for believing in me when I didn't believe in myself."

"You're my star, baby, and now you're Hollywood's. Soon you'll be the world's."

******

Six months passed, and Justin's fame grew far past anything he could have imagined. He and Lance moved into a small condominium in the heart of Beverly Hills. Compared to most of the homes in the town, it was miniscule, but it was larger and much nicer than their West Hollywood apartment--and that's what mattered to them.

CK--who had moved past the Hollywood pretenses and begun allowing Justin to call him by his first name, Chris--was finding more roles than Justin could handle. The low budget film he had just wrapped production on would be premiering at Cannes in the fall, and he had another role lined up--starring opposite Ben Affleck and Julia Roberts in a Ridley Scott film.

Neither of them--even with Lance's undying optimism--ever believed their lives could be so amazing.

The money was rolling in from Justin's acting, and he forced Lance to quit his job at the deli. His rationale was that he was making more than enough to support them--and that he wanted to take care of Lance for once in his life.

Lance found himself bored and listless--he wasn't used to sitting around the house and doing nothing while Justin was off filming. He had always been the bread-winner of couple, and it was odd to not have a job for the first time since he was sixteen.

At Justin's urging, he enrolled in a few classes at the University of California's Los Angeles campus. As he began to meet new people, he realized how much his entire world revolved around Justin---and how much he was the center of Justin's.

They had been living in Los Angeles for eighteen months, and neither of them had any friends--only each other.

Lance hadn't found a problem with that before. All they needed was each other. But now that he was meeting new people, he saw how wrong they had been. Before, when groups of people from the warehouse planned a night out, Lance would exclude himself--because a night out meant a night away from Justin. Any cast parties Justin attended, Lance would be in tow. And if Lance had to work that particular evening, Justin would stay home.

He began to wonder if they spent too much time together.

"Maybe we need to take a break from each other," Lance hesitantly said the words, biting his lip as Justin's eyes widened.

"Break up? No! We can't," Justin began hyperventilating, "I love you! You love me! I need you Lance! We-"

"Justin, baby, calm down. I just meant that we should do things on our own. Go out, meet new people. I don't want to break up. Believe me, I don't think I could live without you." He brushed away a stray tear that was working its way out of the corner of Justin's eye, "You're my star. I could never leave you."

******

Two years and six movies later, Justin and Lance were the toast of Hollywood. An openly gay actor was an oddity on its own--much of Hollywood's gay population was closeted--but an actor so public with his boyfriend was something most hadn't seen. The entertainment industry embraced them, more than one director had offered Lance roles in their movie. But he wasn't the actor--Justin was.

They bought a house in the Hollywood Hills, a veritable mansion--a far cry from their first Los Angeles home. The house had all the amenities a movie star was supposed to have. An indoor pool, ten bedrooms--four of them with their own fireplaces, a staff. They had their very own maid and a chef to cook their meals.

There was talk of an Oscar nomination for Justin, the mantle in their den already holding two Golden Globes. His chances for the nomination were nearly imminent, the studio was lobbying heavily to the voters.

They didn't see each other as much as they had in the past. Justin was always off on location or in a meeting with a director or producer. Lance went to school full time, working as hard as he could to acquire a bachelor's degree in business.

When they were together, they often found themselves lapsing into silences, the only sounds the roar of the fire and their steady breathing. But life was as good as it could be. They were still very much in love--a commitment ceremony was planned for the beginning of the summer.

But every silver lining has a cloud.

The fights began. At first, they were over small things--like how much to leave the waiter for a tip, or who they should invite to the commitment ceremony. Then they began to escalate, resulting in one of the pair slamming the door and leaving for days at a time.

Justin didn't know what to do. They had never fought before--in the entire six years they had been together, they hadn't even had the slightest disagreement. He worried that Lance would leave him, that their love wasn't strong enough to survive whatever this was that was suddenly happening to them.

Lance didn't have time to worry about he and Justin's relationship. College was taking up all of his time, he was almost finished--would be graduating at the end of the semester. He hated that he couldn't concentrate on what was happening to he and Justin--but he was confident that they would be able to work it out. After all--they had been through so much together.

"Lance, we really need to talk." Justin stood at the doorway to Lance's study, nervously wringing his hands.

"Not now, Justin. I have to study for a test that's twenty percent of my grade. We can talk later." Lance barely glanced up from the book he was studying.

"Please?"

"Justin! I said not now." Lance removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can't you understand that I'm trying to study? Do I bother you when you're looking over a script?"

"No," Justin remarked softly, "You usually read them with me. Can I just ask you one question? Am I still your star?"

"Yes!" Lance threw his highlighting marker on the desk, abandoning his book. "You're still my star, and you will always be my star. Now can you please leave me alone? I don't have the time to reassure you right now."

******

It wasn't until three months later that Lance realized how much damage had been done to their relationship. He found himself constantly annoyed by Justin--a feeling he was by no means used to. Justin now possessed quirks that Lance had never seen before.

He was becoming a stereo-typical movie star--a cellular phone attached to his ear at all times, throwing fits and punches at obnoxious cameramen who tried to snap his picture. The announcement of his contention for Best Actor had only served to make things worse.

Lance felt as though he were playing a part in one of Justin's films. When he and Justin were out in public, they were the perfect couple--smiling for the cameras at movie premieres, acting as though nothing had changed. In the privacy of their own home, however, things were radically different.

If they weren't fighting, they were sitting in strained silence. And when they were fighting, it was worse than it had been a few months before. Lance would tell Justin he was buying into the Hollywood hype too much, and Justin would accuse him of jealousy before stalking out of the room and slamming a door shut as hard as he could.

At one point, they actually had to have a carpenter repair a door, because Justin has slammed it so hard it broke the hinges.

They fought the night before Lance's graduation, sleeping in separate rooms of the house--as they had been for the past few weeks. Justin was gone by the time Lance woke up the next morning, but Lance was positive that he would be at the graduation ceremony. The event was far too important in Lance's life for Justin to ignore it.

When there was no one to congratulate him at the end of the ceremony, Lance bypassed all of the friends saying goodbye--going to straight to his car. He sat in his car for twenty minutes--trying not to cry--before he finally broke down. His fist pounded the steering wheel as the tears fell, wishing it was Justin and not a piece of plastic.

When the saline began to dry on his face, he felt anger burning in his chest. After all he had done for Justin, all he had given up--how dare he not be there on one of the most important days of his life? It was the last straw.

Lance couldn't take this life anymore. Whoever had said that money didn't buy happiness had known what they were talking about. Before Justin was famous, they had been poor--but in love. Now that Justin had achieved his dream, now that they were richer than they had thought possible--the love wasn't there.

When Lance returned home, he sat down at the kitchen table with a stack of notebook paper and a pen. Page after page was filled with his handwriting as his heart flowed through the black enamel pen. He wiped at his tired eyes as he told Justin that he couldn't do this right now, and that he needed a break--a real one this time. He removed the promise ring that Justin had replaced, folding it into the letter.

He carried the letter upstairs, intent on setting it on Justin's bed, so that he would find it whenever he came home. He was surprised to find Justin curled up in the middle of the bed, his arms wrapped around a pillow. Carefully setting the sheets of paper on the bedside table, Lance stood next to the bed, running his hands over Justin's hair.

"Oh, Justin," he sighed, "How did this happen to us?"

Lance's hand moved to caress Justin's cheek, and he smiled sadly as Justin nuzzled against his palm.

"Goodbye, my little star." He kissed Justin's lips softly, the barest touch, "I love you."

******

Lance hadn't seen Justin in two months. After he left Los Angeles, he moved back with his parents, reclaiming his childhood room. Justin had called every day for the first month, begging Lance 's mother and father to allow him to speak to Lance. It had been hard not to take those calls--but Lance knew he needed to be away from Justin. For now, at least.

The Academy Awards were a gala event, a 'who's who' of Hollywood. Lance watched them on the television in his bedroom, bracing himself for the first appearance of Justin. When the nominees for Best Actor were announced, he held his breath.

The envelope was opened--and Justin's name was read. Time literally stopped for Lance. For the next few seconds, he forgot how to breathe. Then he jumped from his bed and screamed as loud as he could, crying tears of pure joy.

He calmed down, gasping as he watched Justin walk up to the podium. He had never seen his boyfriend look so thin. When the camera panned in for a close up, Lance could see the dark circles under Justin's eyes. His eyes looked dead, there was no light in them--no love.

He was silent as Justin gave a short acceptance speech--thanking God, his parents, and all of the industry people that had helped him come so far. Then he looked directly into the camera and thanked the man who had given him everything he could've ever asked for. Before he could continue, the orchestra started playing--signaling that the producers were cutting Justin off.

Lance closed his eyes as Justin was escorted offstage. It never occurred to him that Justin would be so affected by their break up. And now he hated himself more than he thought possible. He leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as his mind reeled.

The phone next to his bed rung, breaking him from his reverie. For the first time since he had moved back home, he answered it himself--instead of waiting for one of his parents to pick it up. Somehow, his heart knew that he needed to.

"Please say it." Justin's anguished voice crackled over the long distance. "Please say it's still true."

"You're my star, baby. Always."


End file.
